Drunk Last Night
by sarabeth1
Summary: "You know what? She doesn't get to make me the bad guy. No way, Keen." Ressler pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at her number. Deep down he knew this was a bad idea. Very bad. But, the alcohol now had control. **ONE SHOT Part of the Ressler Prompt Series** What happens when Ressler and Liz get in a fight and Ress turns to alcohol to numb his feelings?


_Ressler Prompt #2 from my twitter/tumblr friends. Prompt #2: Drunk Ressler. Choose a reason why, and who he is with. Any time, any place, any season. Angst if desired._

 _The authors had no clue what the others were doing until we all shared at the same time. It's amazing how without even talking about it we all had a lot of similarities in our stories._

 _Mine ended up Keenler as usual._

 _Enjoy :)_

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 **Drunk Last Night - Ressler Prompt #2**

This wasn't his normal scene. Whenever he drank at a bar it wasn't one with music this loud and girls trying to get his number. He usually picked a booth in the back where he couldn't be bothered but tonight, well tonight was the night everything went to hell. Which was funny considering what life had thrown at him and his friends not a year ago. Tonight was the night he knew he lost her. Donald Ressler was never known to be good with his emotions or showing them. It had become a running joke that he was a government robot. But, he had feelings. And he bottled them up a lot.

Well, the cork finally popped off that bottle of emotions he so carefully tried to keep inside. They got in a fight. A huge fight. An epic fight. One that had the entire Post Office watching. His phone kept buzzing with text messages from Aram asking if he was ok. If he needed someone to talk to. No, he needed to be numb. To not feel a damn thing. Feelings got him in to this mess. And Elizabeth Keen. She was the reason he was sitting alone at this filthy dirty little bar where a girl wearing cheap perfume and far too much make up on was trying to hit on him. He ordered another whiskey and tried to focus on the hockey game that was on the TV above the bar.

"So, that's what I do," cheap perfume blonde said as she giggled and slapped him on the arm. "What do you do?"

"Look, I don't want to be an ass but I'm not interested," he said as calmly as he could.

"Pardon my friend here," the familiar voice said from behind them. Ressler rolled his eyes. "He lacks manners. I've tried and failed, I'm afraid with him."

Cheap perfume blonde huffed then walked away. Well, if he was good for anything it was chasing her away. But, now it was just Ressler and Raymond Reddington. Who looked completely out of place in his three-piece suit. He was either there to rub it in Ressler's face or to threaten his life. Ressler wasn't sure but he wasn't in the mood for either scenario. He tried to get the bartender's attention to settle up his bill so he could storm out once Reddington got going on whatever it was he tracked Ressler down for.

"You have until I pay the bill to say whatever the hell it is you need to say then I'm gone," Ressler snapped still not looking at Reddington.

"I heard about that nasty little bit of business between you and Elizabeth today. Harold seems unsure which of you need to be reprimanded for it but I think I've managed to convince him that the two of you would work it out and there is no need for him to get involved." He set his fedora on the bar.

"What is exactly that you want?"

"This," Reddington said pointing to the drink in Ressler's hand. "Is nothing more than a substitute for your other crutch. You kicked that. Do you really want to be consumed by another? I know that look. You are looking to numb yourself. I don't recommend it. Agent Mojtabai has been trying to reach you. Call him. Talk to him. Don't do this."

"It's none of your business," Ressler hissed. The bartender handed him his slip to sign and as he did it he kept talking. "I'm sure after today I'll be transferred. She doesn't want to work with me anymore and there is no task force without you. And you only speak with Elizabeth Keen. So, Reddington, this is me saying goodbye and stay the hell out of my life."

He tried to get up from his barstool and tripped. Much to his annoyance, Reddington caught him and held him by the elbow. Ressler shrugged him off and stumbled out the front door. The first sight he was greeted with was his coworker Aram standing next to Dembe, Reddington's bodyguard. Dembe simply nodded to Aram then Ressler before opening his car door for Reddington.

"I highly recommend that you allow Aram to drive you home, and make you some coffee," Reddington offered before getting in his car. "I wouldn't call it quits just yet, Donald."

"Agent Ressler?" Aram called breaking him out of his death stare at Reddington. "Mr. Reddington asked me to come here. I've pulled your car around. How he had a key to it, I don't know. But, let me drive you home."

He didn't speak to Aram. But he did get in the passenger seat of his own car. Who the hell did Reddington think he was butting in to his life? And dragging Aram in to it? They weren't even close to being friends. Things had been tense between them. Between the whole team actually for a while now. Today was just the final straw. All the tension among the whole team came to blows but unfortunately it was his and Liz's relationship that was going to pay the ultimate price.

"So, are you a funny or sad drunk?" Aram asked as they drove.

"Neither. I'm not drunk."

"Will you be once I take you home?"

"Aram, please." Ressler rubbed his head. "I'm sorry you were dragged in to this but please. I just want to go home."

That seemed to do the trick because Aram shut his mouth and took Ressler's instructions on how to get his apartment. Once there, he offered to call a cab for Aram but he said he'd have Samar come pick him up. So, reluctantly he invited Aram up to his apartment to wait for his ride but that didn't mean that bottle of whiskey in his kitchen wasn't getting opened. Aram could join him or he could keep his mouth shut.

"I think if you just talk to her," Aram started once Ressler slid him a drink.

"I'm pretty sure we said all we needed to one another." He took a sip then continued. "Look, I know you mean well. I know that. But, there's just…just been too much that has happened between all of us. I think it is best if I get transferred."

Aram's eyes grew wide. "What? No! No one would want that."

"Samar might," Ressler said softly as he took another sip. "And definitely Liz. You were there when she said she never wanted to speak to me again."

"She was mad. And emotional," Aram offered. "She's told Red to get lost more times than not and has never meant it."

"She meant it."

Aram's phone beeped and he looked down at it. He frowned for a moment. "Are you sure you want to be alone?"

"Very much so," he answered. "Thank you."

Aram nodded and smiled. "If you change your mind and want to talk," he trailed off. His hand hovering over the door knob.

"Good night, Aram."

Once Aram left, he locked the door and changed in to his jeans and t-shirt. The effects of the whiskey was starting to hit him yet he grabbed the bottle and his glass and wandered in to his bedroom. How had everything gone to shit so quickly today? Sure, he was upset that Keen broke protocol today. And yeah, he said a few things he shouldn't have to her but he never expected it to blow up the way it did. And in front of the whole Post Office.

"I'm Elizabeth Keen, and I'm oh so perfect," he mumbled. "I've never made a mistake. I'm so perfect and everyone should be just like me." He took a sip. "It's not like I killed a man in cold blood or ran from the FBI. Or engaged in numerous illegal activities with a known criminal. I'm fucking perfect," he growled.

He was being childish but he didn't care. Ressler thought they were actually getting somewhere in their relationship then today happened. She was probably calling up that slime of an ex of hers that she supposedly hadn't seen since she began work again at the Post Office. Running to him like always. Ressler could and would never understand it. It didn't help that she threw his help in his face. How Ressler refused her ex's help but trusted Laurel Hitchin, who by the way was still free.

"You know what? She doesn't get to make me the bad guy. No way, Keen." Ressler pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at her number. Deep down he knew this was a bad idea. Very bad. But, the alcohol now had control. The phone rang and rang until he got her voicemail. "You know what, Keen? I think it's complete bullshit you put all the blame on me. Bullshit, Keen. Bullshit. And tell Reddington I'm not scared of him so whatever tonight was tell him it didn't work." He paused to take another sip of his whiskey. "Bullshit, Keen." Then he hung up. He strangely felt a lot better after that.

He took a break from drinking as he became transfixed on the ceiling fan above him. He knew why this hurt as badly as it did. Those feelings he had for her, the ones he fought so hard to bury but refused to stay that way, they were controlling him. The idea of her hating him. Of them never seeing each other again. That's what was killing him. He had resigned himself to the fact that he would never have a romantic relationship with her and that she would never see him that way, but her friendship was something he never expected to go away after everything they've been through. But, apparently she still couldn't get over the fact he did his job and chased her down when she ran. Forget that he did it to save her. Save her soul. The keep her Elizabeth Keen. And not another Raymond Reddington. No, he was and always will be the stick up his ass agent that almost got her killed. Her heroes were everyone but him. Deep down that's how she felt and today she finally told him.

"You know, Keen. I risked a lot to help you in the only way I knew. I'm sorry if I didn't break the law for you like Reddington or Tom," he spat that last name out like poison. The phone back to his ear. "I'm sorry if I couldn't help you like Cooper and Samar. And I'm sorry that I wasn't there when you nearly died in the box. But, I think it's bullshit that you can't get passed all that. I nearly took a bullet to the head to keep you safe. But, my name's not Tom. So, I guess that doesn't count." He felt the room beginning to spin and without thinking voiced that out loud. "God, this room is spinning. Why is it spinning, Keen?" Then he clicked "end call" on his phone.

There. He told her. Twice. He told her what he thought. And she couldn't interrupt him. Except he hadn't spoken to her, he left it on her voicemail. And who knew if she'd even listen to it. Well, that wasn't his problem. He was going to get it all off his chest. She got everything she needed to say out at the Post Office while he sat back and took it until he yelled those three words he regretted at her. "Go to hell." He told Elizabeth Keen, one of the only people in his life worth a damn, to "go to hell". She pushed him in a corner. And "go to hell" was a lot better than another set of three words. The three he really felt and the three that caused him to act like a reckless idiot.

"You know, Keen," he said again in to her voicemail. "I'm sorry I told you to go to hell. I didn't mean it." And the room was still spinning. "My sponsor told me to avoid all crutches you know? Like, giving up the pills meant I had to give up alcohol. Why? It tastes so good and burns so good going down. And then, I can be numb. Numb is much better than feelings."

He hung up immediately after that. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he spilling his guts out to her? She didn't care what his sponsor said. She probably could care less he even went to NA meetings or that she was the main reason he got help. Sure, he did it for himself but he also didn't want to disappoint her. But, in the end he was always one big disappointment.

"I'm deleting your number, Keen," he said softly after dialing her again. "This was a bad idea. Just…delete this ok? Because I'm drunk. And I'm rambling. And I'm going to regret this in the morning. You are going to hate me even more. I'm sorry."

His finger hovered around the delete option for her number. Then at the last minute as he was about to delete, the anger in him got the best of him. He threw his phone across the room and smiled in satisfaction as it shattered upon impact with the wall. There. Because deleting her number was pointless when you had it memorized. This would keep him from making more of an ass of himself by calling and calling. So would sleep.

He allowed the alcohol to overtake him and he closed his eyes. The last thing he saw before passing out was the black shades over his window. Ressler wasn't sure what time it was when he woke up but he noticed that the shades were open and the sunlight was blinding him. And making his head pound even more than before. Throwing the blankets off he also noticed that his phone was no longer in a million pieces. But, the thing that really got him was the note on his night stand along with the water and aspirin.

"You probably feel like crap. Take these and shower. When you are ready I'm in your kitchen. I made breakfast. Liz. P.S. Calling me that many times was bullshit."

"Son of a bitch," Ressler hissed as he dropped the note and lowered his head. Then he could hear the sounds of movement in his apartment. He'd rather it be Reddington to annoy him or kill him. But, knowing Liz she wouldn't leave until they spoke so with some difficulty he made his way to the shower.

"Red, no. You don't need to listen to them. He was drunk. We said somethings I'm sure neither of us meant and we'll talk it over. And thank you for making sure he got home last night," her voice could be heard in the other room as Ressler exited his bedroom. "I hear him coming. Gotta go," she said quickly.

"I was an ass," Ressler said the moment he made eye contact with Liz.

"A bit, yes." Liz tossed him a zip lock baggie that contained what once was his phone. "Aram will drop off a new one today for you."

"I don't deserve this." He sat at his table and took the offered cup of coffee.

"Want me to scream at you again?" Liz was now sitting across from him, her own cup of coffee in her hand.

"Please don't. The sound of my breathing is killing my head."

And she chuckled softly. Perhaps she didn't hate him. Ressler remembered calling her more than once last night and he knew he said things he shouldn't have but to be honest he didn't recall all the words that came out of his mouth.

"How much do you remember?"

"Not a lot. Enough to be sorry." Ressler grabbed a slice of bacon off the plate she had prepared for him.

"I'm sorry too, Ress. I should have spoken to you in private instead of going off in front of everyone. You just make me so mad sometimes. Always assuming you know what is going on in my life or in my mind," she snapped.

"I don't. Hell, I couldn't even begin to imagine any of that, Liz."

"You assume I'm with Tom. That I want him in my life. That I trust him more than you. I used who I needed to in order to survive. Am I grateful for his help? Yes. But, I've had plenty of time to evaluate who and what I want him my life and it's not him." Liz closed her eyes. "You don't trust me anymore and because of me the whole team is wrong. Nothing is right anymore."

He watched as she spoke and saw the sadness in her eyes. Ressler looked away and grabbed another slice of bacon as he thought about what she said. She didn't want Tom in her life? That was enough to make him happy. And not because she was no longer with someone but because he would no longer have to worry about her getting hurt by him. Not necessarily a physical hurt but an emotional one. Whatever they had was built on lies and she deserved much more than that.

"Samar suggested something to me last night. And Aram," she laughed. "After making sure you got home they came to check on me. Anyway, would you like to know what they think?"

"I probably don't," he moaned. Samar had implied more than once that she knew about his feelings that he tried to so well to hide and if she opened her big mouth and told Liz he was going to be furious. This wasn't high school.

"You're in love with me. You have it so bad and you refuse to admit it even to yourself. That's what they think." She leaned back in her seat with a grin on her face.

Ressler shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. "Did you all have a good laugh at my expense then?"

"Is it true?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know. I don't know how I feel about anything anymore."

"Liar. You know. But, you are too chicken shit to say it." Liz stood up and grabbed the chair that was directly beside him. "Are you scared of your own feelings or of rejection?"

"I'm not scared of anything." He crossed his arms trying to act as cool and unaffected as possible.

"Well, just so you know. The feeling is mutual. So, whenever you are ready to admit whatever it is you are trying to hide come find me. I miss my friend. And there was a time before our worlds got torn apart and upside down that I thought maybe we could be more."

She slid her chair back and stood up. His heart was racing. This was not the scenario he expected this to happen. In fact, he never expected this to happen because he planned on talking his feelings for her to the grave. So, when she made a move to leave he reached out and pulled her back. His hand was still on her arm when he finally decided what he was going to say.

"I planned on never letting you know. Letting anyone know. I worked pretty damn hard to keep it hidden."

"You failed," Liz said softly.

"I guess I did." He let go of her arm. "He's really out of your life?"

"He is. We talked and he left to do whatever it is that will make him happy. And I'm ready to make a new life. A fresh start. I want you to be part of that."

Well, he wasn't exactly ready to declare his love for her. But, he was ready to open himself up again. And if she was willing to forgive him for all the stupid stuff he'd done and if she wanted him in her life, well then who was he to deny her of that. He smiled softly then nodded to her empty seat.

"Have breakfast with me?"

"And after breakfast?" she asked as she sat down.

"Then I sleep." They both laughed. "I'm never drinking again. But, after that, would you like to go out to dinner?"

"Not as two coworkers?" Liz questioned.

"As whatever you want us to be."

She grinned and her eyes twinkled. "Sounds like a plan then to me."

Ressler nodded and they filled their breakfast with comfortable conversation. And after breakfast he took a nap just as he said he would but later that night he showed up at her door with a bouquet of flowers. Ignoring the many calls from Reddington on where to take her, he planned a wonderful dinner for the two of them. And it couldn't have been more perfect. He really couldn't imagine that this is how everything worked out. Instead of losing her, Donald Ressler was finally ready to open his heart to Elizabeth Keen and she was ready to do the same.


End file.
